Looking For the Smile
by Seraphim737
Summary: Frankie and Mr. Herriman have never gotten along well. But as their fights grow worse and worse, a heated argument prompts Frankie to do the unthinkable, leaving a certain imaginary friend almost unable to cope. COMPLETE!
1. A Single Thing

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this story, but I do own the story. If it resembles anyone else's in any way it is unintentional.

Author's Note: Well, this is my first Foster's fic :) I've had this particular story idea in my head for a while, and only recently was able to get some of it written down. So anyway, let me know what you think! :D

**Looking For the Smile**  
Chapter 1: A Single Thing

Do you know how much it hurts to hear hatred in someone's beautiful voice?

So much it practically causes me physical pain to hear it.

I've never really enjoyed it when people shout. But lately I've come to absolutely dread it. I have heard the worst kind of shouting...the kind full of hate. The kind _filled_ with disdain and fury. The kind that never leaves you, no matter how much you want to get away. It permeates the walls, the ceilings, and the floors, no matter where you go, you can't get the sound out of your head. There's no place it won't follow you; it never leaves you. Once you hear this sound, it implants itself deep within you, and refuses to be forgotten.

I heard that sound again today. ...I felt as if I could die as I listened.

I was just going downstairs to get something to snack on. I'd promised to get something for Bloo, Coco, and Eduardo as well. They were all in our room at that particular moment, Bloo in the midst of explaining his and Mac's latest, greatest exploit. I never suspected anything would be different today. I never expected anything less than what had passed every other day of my life.

I'd told Bloo and the others I'd be back in just a minute.

...But sometimes, just one minute can change everything. One sentence, one action, one word....

...And as I arrived at the top of the stairs, the horrid sound came rushing into me.

"How dare you say that to me!!" came a shouting voice from a downstairs room. I froze on the top step, my heart momentarily leaping into my throat. Were they at it again?

"Don't shout in my face, Miss Francis, it's quite rude."

"I'll shout all I want! I don't appreciate you saying I've been doing shoddy work!! I've barely had time to _sleep_ in the past few days!!"

I wanted to move. I wanted to turn around and go back to my room. But I was rooted to the spot. I was fated to stand there and bear witness to these sounds I no longer wanted to hear.

"Really? It hasn't been showing."

My heart sank further. How could Mr. Herriman say something like that to her? Frankie had been more stressed in the past couple weeks than I'd ever known her to be. She'd seemed so angry all the time lately...and I'd hardly been able to bear one minute of it. ...Nor could I do anything to make her feel better. Goodness knows I'd been trying. But nothing ever worked.

I didn't want to listen to this. I'd heard so many of their fights already. I didn't want to hear them anymore. ...So why couldn't I leave? Why was I fated to stand there, motionless, speechless, powerless to do anything?

...Then I actually heard her start cursing. My heart practically stopped.

"Oh, what the hell would you know about that?! I don't see you doing _any_ of the work around this stupid house!!"

I knew the curse was a relatively minor one, but it hurt to hear it nonetheless. ...Never had I heard Frankie this way.

"I do far more work than you do, Miss Francis, I can assure you that," Mr. Herriman replied. I found myself wishing he wasn't so calm. It was probably the fact he was not shouting back that was heightening Frankie's anger.

"Oh my God, don't even say that to me, Mr. Herriman. I am _not_ in the mood to hear it."

"Watch the tone you're taking with me, Miss Francis."

"I'll take whatever tone I damn well please!!" Frankie suddenly screamed, sounding like her anger had grown tenfold.

I tried putting the image of Frankie into my head and imagined those words coming from her mouth.... It didn't fit. It didn't feel right. ...This entire thing wasn't right. This wasn't her. What had made her into such a person who would act this way?

"I suggest you watch your attitude, Miss Francis." Now Mr. Herriman was starting to sound agitated. I never wanted to run away more than I did now...I didn't like where things were going. This seemed dangerous...too dangerous. Why couldn't I just go in there? ...Maybe I could stop it, maybe I could have said something...but would it have done any good at this point?

So still I stayed there...so still I listened.

"Is _anything_ I _ever_ do _good enough for you_?!" Frankie shouted, sounding like she'd almost reached the peak of her frustration.

"Miss Francis, I'm afraid I don't have all day to sit here and discuss this with you." I heard the sound of Mr. Herriman hopping away. For a moment I panicked, thinking I should hide. I didn't want him to see that I'd been eavesdropping, however unwillingly.

"Do not walk away from me! I am _talking_ to you, dammit!!" I heard Mr. Herriman stop.

"Out of my way, if you please." I could tell he was fighting to keep from shouting back at her.

"Not until I'm finished speaking with you!" I hadn't realized before now that I was gripping the railing so tight.

"Then please make your point so I may be on my way." I was praying as hard as I knew how that this would not get any worse.

"My _point_, Mr. Herriman--" I didn't like this. I didn't like this at all. Frankie's voice was getting louder and louder and she sounded as if she could tear Mr. Herriman's head off right then and there... "--is that you are by far the biggest jackass in this _whole damn house!!_"

I shut my eyes tight, wishing I had done the same with my ears earlier. Frankie's tone was just scary now. How could she say those things? What had happened to her? Would she ever say those things to anyone else...or to me? I shuddered thinking of what I would have to do to get her to say them to me.

"Francis Foster!!" Mr. Herriman exclaimed, completely taken aback and shocked beyond description. "Such language and disrespect is _unacceptable_!! You may as well consider yourself fired!!"

_No!!_ my mind screamed. I nearly shouted the words out loud, but just barely stopped myself. It would only make things worse now if they knew I'd heard the whole thing. Mr. Herriman _couldn't_ fire Frankie! Madame Foster would never allow it! Frankie wasn't leaving...she would never do that and she _couldn't_. Mr. Herriman ought to know more than any of us how much the house needed her. The place would fall apart if she left. What would we do without her? What would _I_ do without her?

I calmed myself with the knowledge that the threat was idle. I only prayed now it wouldn't get any worse.

"You know what?" came Frankie's voice from downstairs. "You can bite me because _I QUIT!!_"

......Silence filled the foyer. I heard no response from Mr. Herriman, no more shouting from Frankie. My shocked breathing and my racing heart were all the sounds I could hear...and I prayed they couldn't hear them too.

It felt like I stood there the longest time. Mr. Herriman threatening to fire her was one thing, but Frankie actually saying she quit...was different somehow. She actually _wanted_ to leave the house? She wanted to leave all of us? ...Leave me? Why would she just leave us all to unravel like that? I thought she loved the house, loved all of us...did she not care about us anymore? ...Did she not care about me anymore?

I heard angry footsteps approaching the steps. I realized it was too late to run and Frankie would see me there. Would she yell at me too? I didn't know what to expect from her anymore...she wasn't the Frankie I knew.

She began to head up the stairs. I don't really think she saw me at first. Her face...it frightened me. She looked so angry, so infuriated...I almost believed she would even hit me if she were mad enough. My grip on the railing tightened at the thought of her doing that. At this point all I wanted to do was make her feel better. ...All I wanted was for her to stay.

She reached the top step. She obviously hadn't noticed me by now. But I couldn't just let her walk by...it could be the last time I see her.

No...I tried to put the thought out of my mind. Frankie wouldn't leave. ...She couldn't. But I had to say _something_....

So I said the first thing on my mind. The first thing, the only thing, I thought of: "Uhm...Frankie?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. "Are you okay?"

"I am _NOT_ in the mood, Wilt!! Don't even talk to me!!" she shouted back. She responded so abruptly and so fiercely I visibly jumped and recoiled. Without so much as a backwards glance at me, Frankie stormed off down the hall. As desperately as I wished to follow her, I knew it would be pointless. It would only make things worse.

...Maybe I'd already made things worse. Maybe I'd just made her angrier. I wanted to tell her I was sorry...say I didn't mean it...that I hadn't meant to upset her, I'd only wanted her to feel better.... But she was gone down the hall now.

I prayed that the next time I saw her it would be with a smile on her face....

...If I ever saw her again at all.

* * *

Leave me a review and let me know what you think! :D 


	2. Relive Every Moment

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this story, but I do own the story. If it resembles anyone else's in any way it is unintentional.

Author's Note: Awww, thank you guys for all your lovely lovely reviews! :DD Here is chapter two for you all. I would have had it up sooner except I've been really busy this past week (research paper many blahs/definitely not fun). Just so there's no confusion, only the first chapter was meant to be from Wilt's point of view. Everything else will be in third person. ...Or at least, for now it is XD But anyway, here we go :) Enjoy!

**Looking For the Smile**  
Chapter 2: Relive Every Moment

From the very moment Wilt walked into the room, Eduardo knew something was wrong. One would think it would be easy to tell something like that with a person like Wilt. He was so happy all the time, any change in his mood should be easily apparent. But Eduardo had known Wilt a long time; he knew that normally Wilt didn't make it obvious if he was upset. He was always too afraid of making somebody else feel bad.

But not this time. Something was upsetting Wilt and he didn't seem to care if he brought the whole world to tears by showing it.

Wilt walked across the room, not in his usual stride, but rather dragging his feet with his eyes downcast. Without so much as a word or a glance, Wilt crawled under the bed somberly.

Eduardo glanced at Bloo and Coco. They hadn't seemed to notice anything; Bloo was far too caught up in what he was saying and Coco could never concentrate on more than one thing at once anyway. Ed walked over to the side of the bed and knelt down to peek under it.

"Wilt?" he asked. "What is wrong?"

The tall friend did not answer at first. But then, after a slightly long pause, he answered softly, "Nothing...." His mind was obviously preoccupied.

Eduardo tried asking again, though as politely as he could, so he would not seem like he was prying. "Something is wrong, Wilt. I can tell. ...You can tell Ed."

From under the bed he heard a sigh. "I'm sorry...don't worry about it, Ed. ...It's nothing."

Eduardo stared at his downtrodden friend beneath the bed, at a complete loss at what to do. All the time he'd ever known Wilt, he'd never known him to be like this. Just the way he walked into the room had been enough to make Eduardo worry. What could have possibly upset him so? His mind raced with a thousand things that it could be...but none of them really seemed that plausible. Wilt had always maintained a sunny disposition no matter what life threw at him. Eduardo didn't like seeing his friend like this.... He'd always been so happy, so optimistic. In all his life Eduardo had never known anyone like Wilt. What could possibly have hurt him so much as to take all that away?

His thoughts were soon broken. "Hey, what's the deal with Wilt?" Bloo asked, coming over. Peering under the bed, he said, "Come on, Wilt, it's only 2 o'clock, why are you going to bed now? It's not even dinner time yet."

He received no answer. Ever impatient, Bloo pounded on the top of the bed and shouted, "Hellooooo, Wilt?!"

"Azul..." Eduardo interjected, tapping the small blue friend on the shoulder, or at least where a shoulder should have been. "Wilt no es cansado, es muy triste." Bloo stared back with a puzzled look on his face. It took a moment for Eduardo to realize he'd lapsed into Spanish by accident.

"Ay, lo siento. What I meant to say was...Wilt isn't tired, Azul, he's upset."

"Upset? Wilt?" Bloo allowed himself a laugh at that. "Wilt doesn't get upset! Does he even know what that word means? The guy has like no emotional range whatsoever. It's happy, helpful, and apologetic. That's all he knows how to do."

Bloo pounded on top of the bed again and called, "You're not upset, Wilt, are you, buddy?!" No reply. He waited a moment for one, then turned to look at Eduardo and Coco. Ed had a look on his face; one that said, "See?"

"Oh, I see what's going on here," Bloo said. "Well, no worries, Ed, I'll get the truth out of him." With his small size, the blue friend walked under the bed without crouching or slouching in the least bit.

"Hey, Wilt, old buddy," he greeted, smiling the whole while. "What's up?"

Wilt, eyes downcast, only replied, "I'm sorry...I don't mean to be upsetting you all...."

"What?! Upset? Us?!" Bloo laughed. "The only person here who's a little off their rocker is you, pal. Now, why don't you just let little old Blooregard in on what's making you so down?" There was a long silence. After a while Bloo wondered if Wilt had even heard him.

But the truth was that Wilt really didn't want to say. The sudden, unexpected news of Frankie leaving had been such a shock...just now he was still processing the fact that he may never see her again. He wasn't sure how the others would take it if he were to let them know. He never enjoyed being the bearer of bad news anyway. As he considered whether to tell Bloo or not, the memory of the entire scene came rushing back to him. It pulled at his heartstrings so badly he soon didn't trust himself to look at Bloo with dry eyes. Rather than risk worrying his friends even more, he sighed and turned over, no longer facing Bloo.

"Nothing. I'm just tired," he lied. It hurt to lie to Bloo's face like that, but what else could he do? All he wanted right now was to be left alone...and he didn't want them to feel what he felt. To lie was the only answer he could find. Yet Wilt never lied...and he was so bad at it he wouldn't be surprised if Bloo saw right through it regardless.

Whether he saw through it or not, Bloo didn't like the answer. "What?! Oh come on, you big red beanpole, you are not!!" He started to walk around Wilt to face him again, but before he could get very far, Eduardo reached under the bed and grabbed Bloo, gently dragging him out.

"Come on, Azul," he said almost pleadingly. "Leave Wilt alone if he is tired."

"He is so not!" Bloo protested, flailing around uselessly in Eduardo's grip. "He's hiding something, I just know it!"

"Azul, he does not want to talk right now," Ed tried to reason with him. Wilt so rarely asked for space Eduardo thought it was only right that they allow him some.

But Bloo's natural curiosity never failed. "Ed, come on! There is absolutely nothing in this waking world that makes Wilt act like that! Aren't you just the _least bit_ curious as to what it could be?"

"So?" A warning tone was beginning to creep into Eduardo's voice.

"So? SO?! Eduardo, just let me ask him!" Bloo started to squirm and struggle again, this time harder.

"Azul," Ed protested, holding him back with both hands now, "he already told you once that--"

"STOP!!"

The voice came so suddenly that for a moment none was sure where it come from. Bloo stopped his struggling and Eduardo let him down, slightly surprised. After a while it had become apparent. ...Wilt had just shouted at them.

Yet it wasn't exactly what he said that had caught them by surprise...it was more the way he said it. That desperation and sorrow in his voice. That desperate pleading which had enveloped each word. Was that really Wilt? ...Why would he say something like that?

"Stop fighting!" Wilt shouted from under the bed. "You sound just like them!!" He could trust himself to say no more words with an unwavering voice. He resisted the urge to pound something with his fist and instead laid his head against the wooden floor. He resolved to be silent until they left him alone.

Eduardo cautiously, concernedly, peeked under the bed. "...Altísimo?" he asked quietly, using the name he'd called Wilt for the first little while they'd known each other. He didn't use it so often anymore, other than as a term of endearment.

Wilt stared hard at the wall before him, determined to say nothing until they were gone. Determined to not let them see the extent of his grief. He wouldn't say a word.

For a while it was silent in the room. Eduardo stood there, waiting for some sort of reply from his friend. Bloo was simply dumbfounded; Wilt never acted like that. Wilt never spoke like that. ...He never shouted at all. Bloo was not used to being so confused. Coco wasn't sure what to do herself. She had a very simple way of thinking, and all that she could gather from the situation was that her friends were sad, over what she didn't know, and she didn't like the feeling.

Eduardo and Bloo shared a glance, both indicating they were at a complete loss at what to do or say. The atmosphere was becoming too awkward to stand. A silent understanding was passed among Bloo, Coco, and Eduardo: perhaps they should just leave Wilt alone for now. Bloo crossed the room without a word. He quietly opened the door and left, followed closely by Coco.

Eduardo stayed back, somewhat reluctant to leave Wilt the way he was. But what could he do?

"...Altísimo?" he asked again, a little more cautiously this time. No answer. Nothing. It was pointless to prod further. Not wanting to, but knowing he really had no choice, Eduardo left the room and closed the door behind him.

Wilt waited until he was certain they were all gone. And it was only then that he stopped the painful repression and let the first of his tears fall freely. Why had he created more yelling? Bloo and Eduardo hadn't even really been fighting. Bloo was just being his natural, curious self...and Eduardo was just trying to leave Wilt alone, just like Wilt wanted. ...Had that called for Wilt to just snap at them like he'd done?

But it was too late now. It was too late for everything. Too late to stop Frankie, too late to say he was sorry. ...Again.

Why had he created more of what he hated so much? Idly he wished Eduardo were still in the room. He felt more in the mood to talk now. But he'd been left alone. ...All alone. Just like he'd wanted, right?

Why did the life of an imaginary friend involve constant abandonment, he wondered. Wilt had been abandoned by his creator, by his own friends...was Frankie abandoning him too?

He didn't want to think that way. Not now...not yet. Instead he simply drew his knees up closer and let his tears fall as they pleased, while trying, futilely, to think of other things.

* * *

Leave me a review and let me know how you liked it :DD

Oh, wait, you want the translations for Ed's Spanish? ...Well...I suppose I could give them to you :P The only word that wasn't really translated in the chapter was "altísimo", which literally means "very tall". You know what the thing about writing for Eduardo is? I actually _know_ Spanish! I also write some X-Men stuff, and writing Kurt's German is sometimes so hard...because I don't know German. But I do know Spanish :D So writing for Ed will definitely be easier in that sense.

I suppose I should stop talking now. Leave me a review and tell me what you think :DD


	3. Unbelievable But True

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this story, but I do own the story. If it resembles anyone else's in any way it is unintentional.

Author's Note: Meh...sorry for the slight delay. This chapter was a little hard to write, so I hope it turned out okay for you guys. I'm so tickled that you all like this story! XD Your sweet reviews make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. There's more of my rambling at the end, so on with the chapter!

**Looking For the Smile**  
Chapter 3: Unbelievable But True

Frankie was grabbing things in such a fury she could barely see what she was taking. For the past half hour she'd been seething, infuriated with past incidents. Little else had been running through her mind but the argument she'd had with Mr. Herriman. How she would have loved to just hit him, punch him, do _anything_ to shut him up. She'd been replaying the scene over and over in her head, imagining what else she wished she could've done.

It was doing nothing to quell her anger. If anything it had grown tenfold in the past thirty minutes. How dare Mr. Herriman speak to her like that. How dare he say those things. Shoddy work...Frankie almost punched the wall at the very thought of him saying that. Nothing she ever did was good enough for him. There was always something wrong...always something that wasn't absolutely perfect. Yet that was the only way Mr. Herriman would have it.

It wasn't like this was their first fight. It wasn't the first time their shouting had gotten slightly out of hand. Frankie had been very on edge for the past couple of weeks...and it was starting to creep into other things. Namely, her work at the house. Needless to say, her testy mood hadn't been pleasing Mr. Herriman.

Frankie took in a deep breath and growled lowly to herself. As if he could understand what was stressing her. ...He was the last person Frankie expected to understand. He was the last person she would even tell.

She angrily snapped a suitcase shut, still working in a blind fury. Other thoughts began to enter her head...she sighed inwardly to herself. She didn't like this...didn't like how random thoughts came and went as they pleased these days. It did diminish her anger somewhat when she went on to think of other things, but for the most part it was just annoying. Maybe if she could just concentrate on something for one moment, if she could just feel the way she used to feel before all this happened.... Maybe it wouldn't be so bad then.

A knock on the door tore her from her thoughts. New anger rose up within her. She tightly clenched her fists, vowing then and there that if it was Mr. Herriman at her door, he'd be getting that punch in the face she'd been fantasizing about. She cautiously went to answer the door, and as she opened it, her anger vanished on seeing that it was not the rabbit at all: it was just Bloo.

"Hiya, Frankie," he greeted happily.

"Oh...hey, Bloo. What do you want?" she asked, trying to keep the impatience out of her voice.

"I was just wondering--" Bloo stopped in the middle of his sentence, his eyes drifting curiously to the suitcases on her bed. "Ooo, hey, are you going somewhere?"

Frankie glanced behind her momentarily. Her mind working quickly, she lied, "Uhm...no. No, I'm just...cleaning my room. It's getting cluttered."

"It doesn't _look_ like you're cleaning your room..." Bloo said, trying to look past her.

"It's nothing, Bloo. What did you want?"

He ignored her question. "Come on, Frankie, what are you _really_ doing?" Bloo tried to weasel his way into the room, but Frankie promptly blocked him at every attempt.

"Bloo..." she said in a low warning tone.

"Are you hiding something, Frankie?" Bloo asked excitedly. Frankie knew only too well his infatuation with uncovering secrets. In a playful tone he taunted, "I'll tell Mr. Herriman if you don't tell me...."

At the mention of the rabbit's name, Frankie noticeably tensed. Bloo's grin gradually faded away as he saw the look in her eyes: he could tell that he'd hit a serious nerve.

"_Get out of here!!_" she screeched, enraged. Her voice was like nothing Bloo had ever heard before; every word made him visibly jump.

Bewildered and frightened, Bloo immediately turned and ran off down the hall. He could hear Frankie screaming, "_Go away!! Go away and leave me the hell alone, Bloo!!_" before slamming her door in a fit of rage. Once he could hear no more, Bloo stopped running.

Panting heavily, he leaned against a nearby wall to steady himself. "What was _that_ all about?" he wondered aloud. Why had Frankie yelled at him like that? Sure, she'd been mad at him before; nearly everybody had, for that matter. But never like that. He'd never heard such anger in her voice before. ...It scared him.

His gaze drifted idly to a nearby clock. Mac would be coming by soon. Maybe he could make some sense of it. Bloo headed for the stairs to meet his creator once he arrived.

* * *

Upon entering the house, Mac saw his imaginary friend Bloo sitting on the steps, waiting for him. "Hey, Bloo," he greeted, walking over to him.

"Hey..." the friend responded half-heartedly, a faraway look in his eyes.

"What's on your mind?"

"Oh, nothing, it's just...well...." Bloo fumbled his thoughts around in his head; he never really had a way with putting serious questions into words. Perhaps because he never had many serious questions. Yet this was important...he decided to just say whatever came out. As usual.

"Wilt was upset earlier."

"He was? Over what?" Mac asked, genuinely curious.

"Well, that's the thing, you see...he wouldn't say."

Mac frowned thoughtfully, his curiosity deepening. Wilt wasn't the type to act like that. "That's strange," he replied matter-of-factly. "Where is he now?"

"Still under the bed, as far as I know. But Mac, there's something else...." Bloo seemed skeptical to continue.

"What is it?"

"...Well...Frankie was just mad at me."

Mac laughed, and Bloo realized how stupid that must have sounded. "So?" his creator asked. "What else is new?"

"No, Mac, you don't understand, I mean like...like _really_ mad."

"Define 'really mad,'" Mac said, crossing his arms. He was interested to see what Bloo meant.

"Well, I mean like...it was almost like she hated me or something."

"Bloo, Frankie doesn't hate you."

"No, I know...." Bloo sighed in exasperation. Why was this so hard to explain? "Look, my point is, Mac, that she's acting...I mean, she seems really angry. I mean, if you could have heard the way she yelled at me just now...I think something's upsetting her."

Mac let his arms down, now a bit struck by Bloo's words. It wasn't like Bloo to ask him things like this. It wasn't like Bloo to wonder why Frankie was yelling at him for whatever reason...perhaps something was wrong. Bloo hardly ever worried; that alone and in itself was enough to make Mac wonder.

"...I'm starting to wonder now," Bloo continued, his eyes deep in thought and staring towards the floor, "...if maybe the reason Wilt's upset and the reason Frankie's upset are the same?"

"...I don't know, Bloo. It could be. ...Where's Frankie now?"

"In her room."

"What made her get mad at you?"

Bloo shrugged. "I just wanted to know what she was doing with all her suitcases. She wouldn't answer me and then for like no reason blew up at me!"

"...Wait...suitcases?"

"Yeah, she had like ten suitcases on her bed and she wouldn't tell me what they were for."

Bloo couldn't help but notice a small twinge of worry momentarily come across Mac's face. "You know what, Bloo..." Mac told him, "it's probably nothing. There was one day that my mom was yelling at me for really little things too, and later she just told me that for a couple days during the month girls are a little more angry than usual."

Bloo made a curious expression. "Really? How come?"

Mac shrugged. "I dunno. I guess it's a girl thing."

"Oh. All right then. Let's go play."

* * *

Frankie slowly, somberly opened her door. A few of friends were starting to make their way downstairs towards the dining room. For a moment she watched them. She was going to miss them all, she had to admit.

A thought suddenly popped into her head: dinnertime was around when Mac left. If she didn't hurry, she would miss her only chance to say goodbye to him. She ran for the stairs, hoping to catch him before he left.

Luckily, as she reached the front door, Mac and Bloo were just saying their goodbyes.

"Mac!" she called. "Wait a second!" Frankie stopped at the bottom of the steps momentarily to catch her breath.

"Oh, hey, Frankie," Mac greeted, turning around. "What's up?"

"I need...I need to talk to you for a second. Uhm...alone," she added, glancing at Bloo.

"Oh, I see," Bloo said, pouting. "I see how it is. Fine then. I'll see the two of _you_ later." He skulked away towards the dining room.

"What did you want to talk to me about, Frankie?" Mac asked curiously. He remembered the last time someone had asked to speak to him without Bloo. For some reason he didn't think she had good news for him.

Frankie looked to the 8-year-old and sighed inwardly. Best to just get it over with. She knelt down to his eye level.

"Mac...I have to leave."

For a slight moment Mac panicked. Could his earlier suspicions be true? ...Maybe there was something else she meant by it. "What do you mean?" he asked worriedly.

"Well...like leave the house."

Mac's eyes widened in complete incredulity. "_What?!_"

"Not so loud, Mac. ...I'm going to tell everyone else at dinner."

Mac had suspected something like this earlier when Bloo told him about Frankie's suitcases. But he hadn't thought it made sense at the time...he hadn't believed it until now. And it was practically leaving him speechless; he didn't know what to make of it. "Frankie, you can't leave!" he blurted out. "What are we going to do without you?"

"...I don't know, Mac. But I have to go."

"Why? Where are you going?"

"Just...somewhere else. For a while."

"For how long, Frankie? When are you coming back?"

"...I don't know yet." She almost sounded indifferent.

There was a silence, Mac absorbing and processing all that she had just told him. How could Frankie leave? It wouldn't be the same without her. ...And she had almost sounded like she didn't care. This whole situation seemed so surreal. How could she just tell him something like that, something that would change his life and the lives of all the friends here...so calmly?

"...Can I stay a little longer, Frankie?" he asked quietly.

"No, Mac, I don't want you to get in trouble with your mom...."

"It's okay, I'll think up some excuse. Please, Frankie...I barely saw you at all today."

Frankie could understand what he meant. It was only fair that he got to spend some more time with her before she went away.

"All right. You can stay."

* * *

Bloo entered the dining room, hungrily and happily anticipating dinner, and took his usual seat with Eduardo, Coco, and....

"Is Wilt still upset?" Bloo asked Eduardo, seeing the tall red friend's empty seat. Eduardo nodded sullenly.

"I haven't seen him since earlier," he replied. "...I think something is very wrong."

As Bloo sat down, Coco pointed towards the door. "Coco coco," she said, somewhat enthusiastically. Bloo turned in the direction she was indicating and saw a pleasant sight.

"Mac! What are you doing still here?" he asked excitedly, jumping down from his chair. "Are you staying for dinner?"

As Mac came closer, Bloo saw the troubled look in his creator's eyes. His excitement died a little and his grin slowly eased off his face. Even in his impish naivety, Bloo could tell that something was seriously wrong by now.

"Yeah, I'm staying, but, uhm..." Mac fumbled, "...I'm gonna sit up...near Frankie, if that's okay with you."

Bloo blinked, his mind going crazy with curiosity and concern. "Uh...sure, Mac, whatever you wanna do."

"Thanks." Mac walked off towards the front of the table. Bloo stood there a moment, thoughts coming and going a mile a minute. What was going _on_ around here?! First Wilt was upset and wouldn't say why, then Frankie had practically ripped Bloo's head off, and now Mac was staying over longer with something obviously on his mind. What had Frankie talked to him about anyway? Bloo slowly jumped back into his seat next to Eduardo, almost dizzy with wondering.

The meal passed in relative silence for the three of them. Occasionally Bloo would steal a glance near the front of the table, where Mac sat next to Frankie. Neither one of them spoke the entire dinner either. Bloo noticed Frankie wasn't really eating either. He was beginning to fear that something bad had happened. He knew that Eduardo and Coco were thinking the same thing; periodically the three of them would share a silent glance, not knowing what was happening and fearing the worst.

They would soon get their answers; Madame Foster stood on her chair and cleared her throat.

"Everyone, may I have your attention please, dears..." she announced. Gradually, the talking in the hall died down and went silent. "Ah, thank you," she said, smiling. "I have a very important announcement to make that you all may like to hear." Madame Foster then lowered her voice and turned to Frankie. For a moment an unheard, whispered conversation passed between them.

Bloo felt his gut twisting; he just knew Madame Foster did not have good news.

Madame Foster stood again and addressed the room, "I'm afraid Frankie will be leaving us tonight."

"WHAT?!" shouted Bloo, Eduardo, and Coco simultaneously. Of course, Coco spoke in her own little language, but the meaning was the same.

A collective gasp echoed throughout the room, followed by an immediate uproar of protest. Frantic mutterings and whisperings went all around the table, the entire house demanding to know why, pleading for her to stay, not understanding. Bloo was shouting out in his own disbelief; unsurprisingly he could be heard above virtually every other friend in the house.

"Please, everyone, calm yourselves!" Madame Foster implored. "Frankie would like to say something to you all." She jumped off her chair and sat down, and looked encouragingly in her granddaughter's direction. Frankie sighed, figuring she may as well get it over with, and stood.

Though Frankie's anger had disappeared somewhat since that afternoon, she was still a bit edgy. ...Though it still wouldn't make saying goodbye any easier.

"Uhm...hey, everybody," she began a bit awkwardly, trying to think of the best way to do this. "I'm sorry this was on such short notice...but I just have to leave for a while. ...I don't know how long I'll be gone, but I'll try to come back as soon as I can. It's just that certain circumstances have made it practically...impossible for me to stay here." Bloo couldn't help but notice how she seemed to glance at Mr. Herriman when she said that.

"Frankie, don't leave!" one of the imaginary friends shouted. It was soon followed by a barrage of similar protests, the entire house imploring her to stay. Frankie bit her lower lip in apprehension. She hadn't wanted to make a big deal out of this.

"Guys, I'm sorry..." she began, but was instantly drowned out by the last voice she needed to hear.

"Oh, this is outrageous!!" Mr. Herriman shouted, suddenly jumping up from his chair and slamming his hands on the table. At the sound of his voice, the entire hall went quiet. "Miss Francis, I understand that I upset you this afternoon, but that should by no means be the grounds on which you _abandon_ us!!"

Frankie had been all ready to shout right back at him, but at the mention of the word "abandon", she was struck speechless. How dare he say a thing like that.... "I...I am _not_," she stammered out, quivering with rage, "I am _NOT_ abandoning this house, Mr. Herriman!!"

"What would you call it then?" Mr. Herriman replied, sounding as though he were holding back as much anger as Frankie.

"You know, I don't recall you being in this conversation in the first place." Frankie crossed her arms, annoyed.

"Miss Francis, you are behaving very childishly. Our one confrontation this afternoon should not be enough to drive you to leave."

"It's not that, you stupid rabbit!" Frankie yelled, uncrossing her arms and bringing her own hands crashing down on the table. "It's everything _else_!! All the _other_ times I apparently can't do anything right!! And I am SICK of it! I am not going to take this from you anymore!"

Perhaps if Frankie had been in less of a rage, she would have noticed Madame Foster attempting to get her attention, trying to calm her down. But Frankie was only focused on the argument at hand. She barely even realized that she was shouting in front of the entire assembled house. Displaying her abject fury for all to see.

"Do not raise your voice at me, Miss Francis!" It was obvious Mr. Herriman was becoming increasingly irritated as well. None of the friends in the hall said a word. They _couldn't_...they'd never seen either Frankie or Mr. Herriman like this before.

"I will raise it as much as I want! It's not like you listen to me anyway!!"

"I won't tolerate this ridiculous behavior of yours any longer! I understand that _you_ may find me unbearable, but you've never spent a day listening to yourself, have you, Miss Francis?"

That was it. Frankie had had enough. Frustrated beyond belief, she screamed. She turned and stormed out of the room, leaving behind a hall full of shocked friends struck absolutely silent in their disbelief.

Bloo, Eduardo, and Coco were no exception. They stared at the door through which Frankie had left, the last few minutes seeming to be a vague, distant dream. ...Had what they thought happened...just happened? Had Frankie really left them all? Had she left for good? Why would she do this? ...And what was the deal with that fight she'd just had with Mr. Herriman? They all knew the two of them had had their moments...but never like that. Never, ever like that.

Dead silence filled the hall. How could anyone speak at all?

* * *

Man, that chapter was hard to write xx; I tried to get all the appropriate reactions in and enough of them...let me know how you thought it turned out :D The next one should be easier to get done so I'll see if I can't have that out sometime before the week is over. ...But don't quote me on that. But the next chapter is one I'm sure a lot of you out there will enjoy...so I'll try not to keep you waiting long ;)  
  
Sorry for the tacky horizontal lines, also. The site is doing something funky so it deleted my usual three stars that I use to separate scenes.  



	4. Never Wanted More

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this story, but I do own the story. If it resembles anyone else's in any way it is unintentional. 

Author's Note: Wow, you guys are great. Thanks again for all your wonderful comments :D So here's the next chapter. Prepare to be fluffed. Immensely. And just for all you hopeless romantics out there, there's even some sap near the end. Enjoy! XD

**Looking For the Smile   
**Chapter 4: Never Wanted More

Frankie stormed up the stairs, praying wholeheartedly that no friend would follow her. All she wanted to do now was grab her stuff and leave. If she could just _leave_ already everything would be fine....

...Her angry stomping slowed to a walk, and then she stopped altogether as she remembered. Something had seemed out of place at dinner. ...Wilt hadn't been there. She glanced behind her towards the opposite end of the hall.

...Wilt deserved a goodbye.

* * *

In a dark room lit now only by moonlight, Wilt laid underneath the bed, absolutely crushed and full of bitter remorse. From his bedroom he'd been able to hear the entire fight in the dining room. Hatred penetrated the walls, did it not? Screams permeate the ceilings and the floors.... It would have been no use to try to block it out...he only had one hand, after all. 

Earlier, he'd allowed himself just the slightest bit of hope that Frankie might change her mind. It just seemed too unreal for her to want to leave...it was too unreal to imagine life in this house without her.

But his tiny bit of hope was gone now. Shattered, in fact, by the anger and the hatred he'd just heard wafting through these walls. Not after that was she ever going to stay. Not for anybody. Not even for him.

He wished he'd shown Frankie the appreciation she deserved. He could have made her happier, couldn't he? Maybe if he'd just tried a little harder...maybe it would have been enough to make her see past all that Mr. Herriman said to her and made her happy. After all, that was why she was leaving, wasn't it? Apparently she hated it here.

He heard a knock at his door, jolting him out of his thoughts. But he didn't care to respond. He knew he should, to be polite...perhaps he could just feign sleep for now.

He heard the door open as his visitor let themselves in. "...Wilt?" came a familiar voice.

Wilt's eyes widened and his heart lightened. He knew that voice...that was his favorite voice. And to make things better, it was the voice he knew. The friendly one, the loving one...not the angry one he'd been hearing. He heard it the way it was supposed to sound. ...He heard Frankie's voice.

"Yes?" he answered, so as not to be rude even further.

He heard Frankie's footsteps approaching as she crossed the room. She stopped in front of the bed and knelt down. "Hey.... ...You're still sleeping under there?"

Wilt shrugged, though he knew she could not see it. "I don't mind it that much."

She nodded, though he couldn't see that either. "...Wilt, you weren't at dinner. How come?" He could detect the change of tone in her voice.

"I'm sorry," he replied, not wanting her to worry about him. "I just wasn't hungry."

"You don't have to apologize, Wilt."

"...Sorry."

She allowed herself a tiny giggle. "Wilt, I wanted you to be there. ...There's something important I have to tell you. Something that you should--"

Frankie was interrupted and briefly startled, when she felt his hand abruptly, but not sharply, reach out from under the bed and grab her wrist.

"...Don't go," Wilt pleaded quietly.

She stared at his hand, struck speechless. After a moment of strange silence, Wilt's head emerged as well. In all the years she'd known the friend, Frankie could not recall a time when his eyes had ever looked like that. When they'd looked so sad and so desperate.

"Please?" he begged, his voice small and despairing. "...Please don't go, Frankie."

"...How did you know I was leaving?" Frankie stammered out. She could think of nothing else to say. To be honest she could care less on how he had found out, but the true surprise was...just...she hadn't known it would affect him like this.

"I...uhm...I heard you and Mr. Herriman fighting today," he said with a guilty tone of voice. "I'm sorry I was eavesdropping. But...I heard you say that you were quitting. ...And then I heard you two fighting again downstairs. Just a little while ago."

Frankie, again, wasn't sure what to say. Now that she thought of it, she could vaguely remember yelling at somebody as she stormed upstairs that afternoon. ...Had that been Wilt? She'd been too angry to notice much of anything. "...I didn't know you heard that."

Wilt didn't reply. What could he say anyway? He kept his hold on Frankie's wrist, mindful not to hold too tight, but intent on keeping her there with him. Wilt had no idea what he would do if Frankie left...maybe if he refused to let go of her she would stay.

"I...I'm sorry, Wilt," Frankie murmured softly after a moment. "But I can't stay here anymore."

"Why not?"

"Well--" Frankie stopped herself for a second...for a moment she thought, and looked at him. Would it really hurt to tell him? He would understand, wouldn't he? It might even make it easier...and Wilt was good at keeping secrets. Unless of course, Bloo pried enough...he might succumb then. No, no, it would just make it all less complicated if she told him her predetermined excuse.

"Mr. Herriman and I...we haven't exactly been getting along very well."

Wilt's eyes drifted elsewhere. "I know."

"And...well...." She sighed, trying to think of a way to put this. A way so that he would understand, and way so that it would hurt less. "Sometimes people fight...and if it gets to a certain point, if they fight for too long...it gets worse. And if they stay around each other much longer...it might turn dangerous. ...I don't want things to turn dangerous around here, Wilt."

"But they might get better!" he exclaimed, slightly tightening his grip on her. He turned his eyes to her, trying to look hopeful, saying, "Maybe you two will make up in the morning...maybe Mr. Herriman will say he's sorry for saying all thosethings and you two will--"

One look at her face and he knew it was pointless to continue. It was plain that Frankie didn't believe a word of what he'd just said. She'd made up her mind. That was the only truth here.

She merely shook her head, trying to keep a smile on just for him. "I'm sorry, Wilt..." she told him, placing her free hand on top of his. "...I'm sorry it has to be like this."

_Why?! Why does it have to?! Why won't you stay, Frankie? Why won't you tell me...._

But Wilt said nothing, his eyes turned downcast again.

"I promise I'll always think about you, Wilt," she told him in the most reassuring voice she had right now. "I won't forget about you."

"You sure?"

"Of course. I could never forget anyone here at Foster's...I could never forget you."

"I'll remember you too, Frankie.... ...Are you sure you won't stay?"

Why did he ask again? He knew the answer. They both knew she wasn't going to stay. It broke her heart to think that he was so desperate he'd ask yet again. Slowly, she nodded. His expression didn't change much. A silence hovered between them for a while.

Frankie found herself after a moment staring into Wilt's eyes, though the friend himself was looking elsewhere, lost in his own thoughts. She doubted, though, that more than one of those eyes could even see anything anymore. The eyestalk was crushed and bent and sometimes the lid didn't close. She had to admit, it had been a little surprising to see the first time they'd met, but she was never majorly put off by it.

She smiled briefly to herself, remembering the first time they had met. She'd been much younger then...but she remembered it all very clearly. It had been her first day working at the home; she was around fifteen, maybe sixteen then, and she'd always wanted to work for her grandmother in her imaginary friend adoption home.

Mr. Herriman had given her a fairly simple list of chores to do (Frankie sighed, thinking what she would give to have her responsibilities cut down to that amount again), and she'd happily gone to do them. The only problem was, she never before realized how easy it was to get lost in a huge Victorian mansion such as this one. Luckily, a certain tall, red, extremely helpful imaginary friend had been kind enough to show her around. He'd even helped her with some of her chores.

For the first few weeks of her employment, Wilt and Frankie had been practically inseparable friends. Wilt was always happy to help Frankie out with her chores, and she was grateful he was there to keep her company. But, after a while, Mr. Herriman found out that Wilt had been helping her. He'd forbid him to do so any further, saying that it was Frankie's job and it was _her_ responsibility, and hers alone. The always-obedient Wilt had apologized and said he wouldn't do it again. ...But sometimes even that hadn't stopped him from doing it behind the rabbit's back.

As time went on Frankie came to not notice his eye and missing arm at all. Yet one day she'd found herself watching him and started to think...would any child ever _really_ adopt him? She'd never ever say it out loud, but somehow she didn't think any child would find much fun in an imaginary friend with only one arm. ...He was a good friend, though. No amount of physical defects could change that. But would any child ever be able to appreciate that?

As she thought on it more, a bit of anger had rose up within her. How had his previous owner let this happen to him anyway? What child would be so careless as to let his imaginary friend, a friend like _Wilt_ no less, be impaired like that?

One day she'd approached him with the question. But she'd worded it a bit differently to him.

"Was your creator a good kid, Wilt?"

She saw the remembrance in his eyes as his face lit up. "Oh yeah! The best! I used to play basketball with him every day, and he wasn't half bad at it, either."

"Was he careful with you?"

"Uhm...what do you mean by 'careful'?"

"He never like, played too rough with you, did he?"

Now she could see that he was starting to suspect something. "Frankie, of course not. Why are you asking me this?"

"Well, it's just...I'm curious as to how--" She sighed, trying to think of the best way to say it. "I'm trying not to offend you when I ask this."

He smiled reassuringly at her. "You're not offending me. It's okay."

"...Your arm, Wilt. ...How did that happen?"

"This?" he asked, holding up what was left of his left arm. "Oh, don't worry about it, Frankie. It was nothing."

"I'm not trying to say your creator was a bad kid, Wilt, but...how did he let that happen to you?"

For a moment Wilt didn't respond. She tried to read any emotions in his face, but he merely looked thoughtful. ...And then after a while he smiled, though she thought she saw the slightest glint of sadness in his eyes. "It was nobody's fault, Frankie," was all he told her.

Frankie brought herself back to reality. She'd known Wilt a long time. Longer than she'd realized...she was going to miss him. ...A lot.

"...I'm really going to miss you, Frankie," Wilt told her presently, his grip tightening again. Frankie suddenly noticed she was fighting to keep tears from falling. He wanted her to stay so badly...she felt like every moment she stayed in the room with him the more she was hurting him. She couldn't lead him into the illusion that she would stay because he asked her to.

"I know it'll be different without me, but you'll do just fine," she assured him. Wilt only sighed. He wouldn't do fine. He knew he wouldn't do just fine. But he said nothing.

"Will you keep Bloo out of trouble for me?" Frankie asked, allowing herself a little smile. Wilt did not return it. "...I'll do my best," he responded half-heartedly.

"If Ed gets scared, you'll tell him it's okay for me, right?"

"Of course, I always do that...."

"And don't let Coco take any more jobs at the mall, okay?"

"Of course."

"...Wilt?"

"Yes?"

"Will you...would you smile one more time for me before I go?" Wilt looked at her, perplexed by the question. Had he heard her right?

"It's just," Frankie explained, "I...I just love to see you smile. There are some days it just makes me feel better to see it. Sometimes I can just walk past your room and see you talking with Ed or Bloo and you'll laugh for some reason...and it just makes me smile. It makes my day better...it makes me happy. Would you please smile for me, Wilt? I don't want to leave knowing I've left you feeling sad."

Wilt considered her words. It would make Frankie happy if he did it...wasn't that just all he'd been hoping for since he overheard their fight? She was giving him this wide open chance to do it...what could it hurt? Wilt forced a tiny smile, the most and best he could do with the immense and ever-growing weights on his heart.

But Frankie only grinned and shook her head. "No, no, not that one."

Wilt's face saddened again. "What? What's wrong with it?"

"I mean your real smile, Wilt. Come on, you know which one I mean. It's that smile of yours that lights up the entire room, the one that just makes your happiness contagious to everybody, the one that makes it impossible to be sad once you see it...."

Wilt was way too flattered by her words. He grinned.

It was obviously the one Frankie wanted to see, because her expression softened at that moment. "...That's the one. That's how I want to remember you, Wilt. Not sad like this. I don't want to think back on you and see you depressed this way. I want to remember you the way I always knew you."

"So...is this okay?"

"Yes, it's okay."

"Wilt, I'm gonna try my best to come back. But it's not going to be for a while, all right?"

"You promise?"

A brief pause. "I can't promise anything. But I _will_ see you again one day. Tell that to Bloo, Ed, and Coco, okay? This isn't the last time we'll see each other."

"Okay."

Frankie looked down to her wrist, the one Wilt was still holding onto. "I have to go now, Wilt." She tightened her own grip on his hand and bent down further. She planted a friendly kiss on his cheek, and said, "I'll be thinking about you." As she stood, he slowly, reluctantly, let go of her hand.

"I'll see you later."

"...Bye."

Nothing else could be said. She walked to the door, opened it, and left. Wilt stared at the door for what felt like hours, some miniscule part of him praying madly, insanely, that she'd come back through it, saying she'd changed her mind and was staying and never ever leaving again--

But that was impossible. He knew that wouldn't happen. Sighing, he crawled back under his bed.

He had a strange suspicion...a notion that perhaps...maybe Frankie hadn't left because of Mr. Herriman. Maybe she'd left because of something else.

_This time is hard_

_It's not as easy as it was_

_With you around_

_You always stood by my side_

_You made this world a better place_

_With just a smile_

_I waved goodbye_

_I shed a tear_

_And never felt for someone_

_The way I felt for you_

_And I don't mean for anyone_

_I mean for you_

_And all these memories fade away_

_I can feel that I will lose these images_

_I tried so hard to keep_

_But I never will forget_

_You made it such an easy thing_

_To feel at home_

_I waved goodbye_

_I shed a tear_

_And never felt for someone_

_The way I felt for you_

_And I don't mean for anyone_

_I mean for you_

**--Wolfsheim, "For You"**

* * *

Okay, let me just say one thing. This is not supposed to be a Wilt/Frankie. This is supposed to be a Wilt-and-Frankie-are-really-good-friends sort of thing. Personally, though, I don't care if you do want to read it as a romance, I'm just saying that's not the way I'm writing it. You can look at it either way. Make enough sense? Good XD 

I've been meaning to try this lately...but I normally update late at night so I'm too tired to do much of anything else. Review responses seem to be the "in" thing these days...I suppose I could give it a try :P

**Umi Fox:** Yep, she actually left ;; I wonder how Wilt would taste to the dust bunnies...probably a bit too sweet XD Oh yes, and one more thing... ::sneaks up behind Mr. Herriman and sets his tail on fire...then tosses him out the window:: Mwahah! There :D Just for you

**Sherlock-fan19:** Wilt thanks you for the big hug :D And he wants to give you one in return. But first he wants to know if it's okay.

**Shenloken1:** I know, it's about time, right? I'm glad you're liking it so far :D

**FlyingToast:** Yep, Frankie's taken a lot from Mr. Herriman. She was bound to snap sooner or later. Glad you're liking the story too

**DanniB:** I try :)

**PhantomGoDeo:** Like I said, that last chapter was really hard to write. But perfect you say? :D I guess I did something right then XD Glad to hear you're enjoying it so much :)

**Candy the Duck:** You didn't think so? Guess it was a bit of a surprise ending for you then :D

**Kitty Gaby:** Isn't he though? But only sometimes, we all know the guy has a sweet side ;) ::coughcoughFunnyBunnydancecoughcough:: You _beg_ of me? Can't argue with that, I suppose XD Well, I'll see what other tortures I can come up with for our lovely little imaginary friends.

**DippyDaBugbear:** Glad you like it :DD

**Kittie1:** lol Your review made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside And you'd think there's enough Wilt stories on , but no...there's never enough :D

**Spyden182:** I'm glad you liked that chapter. Like I said before, it was difficult to get everything in it right, so I'm happy to hear you think it turned out all right :)

**Shannon Foster:** Wilt and Frankie are my favorite characters too! :D Well...I actually like all the characters, but they're at the top of my list ;) I mean...on my list, my dear lass, they are at the toppity XD Sorry. Couldn't resist.

Sorry if the responses are dumb or too short or whatever. I've never tried this before. ...Okay, I did it _once_, but that was only for one chapter and I didn't even respond to every review. Anyway, leave a review and tell me what you thought :)


	5. Succumb to the Depth

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this story, but I do own the story. If it resembles anyone else's in any way it is unintentional.

Author's Note: Hey, I'm back! Sorry, guys, for the long wait. I've made the mistake of not really knowing where this story is going to end up, so I guess we'll just see what happens as we go along. Plus I had some writer's block...I get that too much. Unfortunately, this is what I do...procrastinate. I try my best not to do it when I'm dealing with my fanfiction, but hey...sometimes you just can't help it. I'll like to say just a couple things, too...I deleted two reviews that were submitted to this story. And I'll explain why. Japanesekitty, I deleted yours for the sole reason that it had flooded my review page. I appreciate your comment, but flooding the page makes the other reviews difficult to read and overall makes it look tacky. Also, Crush with eyeliner, I deleted yours because of the profanity you included in it. I appreciate your positive comment as well, and I know you were just stating your opinion, but to be honest I don't want all that profanity on my review page. Personally I don't like profanity too much and I only use it in my stories when I feel it's necessary. So anyway, I'm just saying I didn't do this for any personal reason, and I really do appreciate the fact that you two took the time to review, but there are just some things I don't want on my review page. You can most certainly review again, just keep in mind what I said ;) No hard feelings. Now, on with the story!

**Looking For the Smile**  
Chapter 5: Succumb to the Depth 

It's hard to explain to someone how much a single thing can hurt. It's hard for me to tell anyone just how this feels. I don't want to seem selfish, I know I'm not the only one who's feeling emptier as every day goes on around here, but still...somehow it's just hard.

After she left I couldn't think of anything else but her. Normally whenever I get upset, I try to think of something that makes me happy. ...Unfortunately, the first thing I always thought about was Frankie. And now, just to bring the image of her face into my mind brings me pain. It makes it all worse. I try to think of something else but already my mind is stuck. It seems as though once I think of her she won't leave my head. And everything just falls deeper into that overwhelming despair.

I heard something once. I heard that there is no pain that can equal death except loneliness. It's the truth. I've felt it before. It's one of those things you just never really learn to deal with. Denial doesn't work and neither does any form of self-delusion. When my creator first abandoned me here it was all I could do to just fake a smile every day. But then Frankie came, and...she seemed to make everything better. Not long after her came Eduardo and I felt as though I could never be sad again.

Now she's gone. And it's just me being abandoned all over again. I suppose with my creator it was different, because I _knew_ that he wasn't going to come back, I _knew_ that he had no more use for me. That way I didn't fool myself into thinking he would. But this situation...it seems worse, almost, because I don't know. I don't know if she'll come back. I'm glad to have that little bit of hope that she might, but it somehow works against me as well. It torments me, almost. When my creator left me here I never laid awake at night hoping and praying as hard as I could that he'd come back for me. Because I knew it was useless and it was pointless. But with her...with Frankie...I don't know what will happen.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that it's uncertainty that hurts the most in a situation like this. The whole "fear of not knowing" thing.

It's weird. Suddenly it's like my and Eduardo's roles have been reversed. Before it was always me comforting him, telling him that a shadow was just a shadow and that a thunderstorm wouldn't tear the house apart. Now it's him telling me these things. I almost feel bad...I know I'm worrying him, acting this way. I've tried to push all the feelings away, just for him, so he wouldn't be forced into a role he wasn't meant to play...but faking it is so hard. It's just so hard.

Maybe I shouldn't really feel all that bad about it. Knowing Eduardo as I do, I know that his natural instinct is to protect. He did it for his creator and I guess he wants to do it for me as well.

I'll be honest: the whole first day after she left I didn't come out from under the bed. How could I have? To everyone else in the house I was always the happy one, the one who could see the "okay" in every situation. Like I said before, faking it is incredibly difficult. And I was not in the mood to fake anything that day.

Eventually Eduardo coaxed me out. So I went downstairs to help with some things around the house...apparently Mr. Herriman had said that all us friends had to put forth more effort to keep the house running with Frankie gone. So I did my best not to think of her while I was, essentially, replacing her.

* * *

About two weeks after Frankie left, things didn't seem to get much better. I hadn't heard from her since she left; if anyone else in the house had, I didn't know of it. Mr. Herriman had been reduced to two moods: either he would sit in his office all day and rarely be seen, or he would all over the house, shouting at anyone and everyone for the slightest misdeed or error. Madame Foster was around as often as usual, except she seemed older now. Of course, we'd all known she was old before, but there'd always been a spark of life in her that seemed to be dead now. She smiled as often as usual but her eyes would always be sad. 

Mac still visited; of course, he always immediately offered to help with whatever chore we were doing. It didn't seem like he and Bloo played much anymore. Mac just dropped by, helped us out, and then he'd leave once he had to go home. It was hard to imagine how Bloo must feel. It must have felt like not getting to play with Mac anymore...like if Mac didn't visit...like being abandoned again.

The other day I was cleaning a ceiling fan in the hallway while Eduardo swept near me. Neither of us were saying much. I was too busy making sure none of the dust I removed was really the imaginary dust bunny friends. Maybe Eduardo was concentrating on the same thing.

A silence was hanging between us, needless to say. It was one of those silences where the ticking of the hallway clock seems so loud, where you're afraid to make the smallest of motions for fear that it will make a terrible racket. The silence, like all silences, was eventually broken.

"Wilt?" Eduardo asked.

"Yeah, Ed?" I replied, almost mechanically.

"I, uhm...I had a nightmare last night."

"You did?" As soon as I said that I felt a pang of guilt. I'd sounded too indifferent. I didn't want him to think I didn't care. But as he went on, if he noticed or even cared I heard no trace of it in his voice.

"Si. Uhm...you were in it."

"I was? Was anyone else in it?"

"No," he replied, sounding sad. "Just you. ...You were drowning."

It almost shocked me how naturally he was able to say that. I stopped dusting for a minute to listen to him. He didn't even stop his sweeping. "...I, uh...I was?" I asked.

Eduardo nodded. "Si," he said, and this time he actually did stop for a moment to look at me. "You fell in the lake in the backyard...and it was too deep for you to stand in. You couldn't get out because you can't swim with your un brazo and everything...and I am afraid of the water so I couldn't help you."

For a while I said nothing. Sometimes Eduardo had nightmares of people dying. Sometimes randomly and without cause, sometimes they were triggered. They always upset him the most, though. I was frankly surprised that he was telling me he'd dreamt of me dying so calmly. To be honest, I'd expect him to be somewhat frantic about it.

"In your dream, Eduardo," I asked him slowly, carefully, "...do I die?"

Then between us we shared the longest, loudest, hugest silence I'd ever heard. I'm still not certain how long I stood waiting for an answer from him. It could have been half an hour, it could have been five minutes, it could have been the whole afternoon. But I could read his eyes, and in them I saw that he was simply thinking. Thinking about everything, so much.

Finally, when he finally looked up and looked at me again, he said, "You are my best friend, Wilt. Absolutamente mi mejor amigo." He was lapsing into Spanish. I only knew what little amount I'd picked up from him, and if he went on into something much more complicated than that small phrase I wouldn't understand him.

Then Eduardo turned and went back to his sweeping, and in a voice that suggested it settled the whole matter, he said, "No me lo gusta cuando eres triste, Altísimo. ...I do not like it when you are sad."

As he continued his chore without another word, I was left to think on that. After a minute or two, it seemed to me as though he wasn't saying that my sadness was in turn affecting his own sadness...and then I started to think about his nightmare. In the time Eduardo had known me, I was upset so rarely I barely knew how to deal with the emotion. Now suddenly, I'd had it flung upon me in one of its fiercest forms.

I guess he was afraid I would drown, so to speak. That I couldn't force my way out of it just to feign happiness for him. And he couldn't help me because he didn't know what to do. I was worrying Eduardo that I would become so sad, so depressed over Frankie's departure I would never be the way I once was. I would never be the same Wilt that protected him from storms and shadows.

Our roles hadn't really switched after all, once I thought about it. Eduardo was still scared, as usual. It's just that this time I was the one scaring him.

Without thinking, on impulse, I went up behind Eduardo and hugged him with my good arm. It was all I could do to reassure him, because I could think of nothing better to say

**

* * *

Candy the Duck:** _Almost_ cried? Darn, I guess I'll have to get some more angsty fluff in the coming chapters to get you to really do it ;) 

**Sherlock-fan19:** He can? :D All right, then... Wilt: (gives Sherlock-fan19 a nice big one-armed hug) Was that okay?

**PhantomGoDeo:** Aw, thank you I'm glad you're enjoying the story.

**Shannon Foster:** The link didn't show up in the review ;; You can always try to send it to me in e-mail, which you can find in my profile. And I'm glad you liked it

**Jessica:** How can you _not_ love Wilt? :D

**FlyingToast:** Glad you liked it :)

**Hannah:** Don't worry, I'll tell what's up with Frankie in a few chapters to come. Maybe even next chapter...who knows? ;)

**Shazi M:** Sequel? Oh, but this story isn't done yet! Yes, there was a bit of a hiatus, but that's just because I'm lazy and get writer's block more often than should be healthy. But I'm glad you're enjoying the story :)

And that's all the review responses from me. If there's one thing I have to say about this chapter, it's that there's just not enough Wilt and Eduardo fluff out there. I might write some oneshots in the future to promote the rise of Wilt/Eduardo slash XD But we'll see how that goes.


	6. Let It Rain On Us Forever

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this story, but I do own the story. If it resembles anyone else's in any way it is unintentional.

Author's Note: Hey, everybody! Remember me? Remember this story? It's that really sad one about Wilt and Frankie and all that fluffy stuff in between...yeah, this is the one ) Anyway, sorry about the huge delay. I hope you all enjoy this chapter; there's quite a major plot point to be revealed here. So...enjoy!

**Looking For the Smile**  
Chapter 6: Let It Rain On Us Forever 

Nearly a month and a half had passed since Frankie's departure. The house had gradually learned to adapt to life without her, and the friends, while they still missed her, were starting to heal from the shockingly abrupt event. Mac still visited, and he and Bloo were getting more time to play each day. Eduardo noticed that Wilt's mood had slowly lifted from day to day and was beginning to seem like his old self. Mr. Herriman's broody and reclusive demeanor was also diminishing, and he was returning to his picky, micromanaging self.

Things were returning to as normal as they could get without Frankie. But it was such a thing that wouldn't last, and then there came one day that changed everything.

Wilt and Eduardo had just finished their chores and were on their way upstairs to listen to Bloo and Mac's latest scheme. More than likely they could expect to take part in it, as well. When they had reached the top of the stairs, the overhead speaker switched on.

"Master Wilt," came Mr. Herriman's voice over the loud amplifier, "Madame Foster requests your presence in her chambers."

Wilt sighed inwardly to himself. Why did Mr. Herriman always have to dress up the simplest of phrases? He turned to Eduardo and said, "You go on. I'll be back later."

"Are you sure?"

"It'll only take a minute, Ed. Don't worry." Wilt gave Eduardo a reassuring smile before going down the hall to Madame Foster's room.

When he arrived, Wilt noticed that he had been feeling more and more uncertain as he'd come closer. There was some feeling he couldn't explain sitting in the pit of his stomach, almost a sick feeling. At first, he hadn't even entertained any idea of what she could want with him. He'd figured it would be nothing short of the ordinary. Now, as he stood here in front of her door, he was feeling something that deeply, deeply unnerved him.

Taking in a deep breath to calm himself, Wilt raised a hand and knocked at the door. "Come on in, sweetie," came Madame Foster's voice from behind the door. Wilt opened it and entered the room, ducking as he did so. He found it a bit odd how he did that almost automatically without thinking. There was no reason why he shouldn't, truthfully; he'd had to do it all his life.

"You didn't have to knock, dearie, I was expecting you," the old woman said sweetly. "Please, won't you sit down?"

To be honest, Wilt preferred to stand, but he preferred to be polite more than most else, so he obeyed.

"So," Madame Foster began conversationally, "how are you today, Wilt?"

The friend was a little caught off guard by her offhand remark. Somehow he couldn't believe she'd called him down here just for a pleasant conversation. Although pleasant conversations were his favorite...that feeling he'd had since coming here still hadn't gone away. She'd called him here to tell him something, he could say that confidentally.

"Erm...fine, I guess," he replied politely. "How are you?"

"Oh, just fine, dearie. I was hoping I would catch you in a good mood today. I know how upset you've been over, well..." Madame Foster paused, seeming hesitant. "Well, since Frankie left," she finally said. With the mention of the subject, Wilt's mood was understandably brought down a bit, but it was not enough for him to show on his face. He merely nodded.

"I'm in a good enough mood," he said. He noticed the uncertain feeling grow bigger. "Was there...something you wanted to tell me?"

Why did he have to ask her, he wondered. Wilt didn't want to know what was giving him this increasingly unsettling feeling. Why did he have to prod her into it? If anything he now wished to prolong the conversation, drag it out...anything but find out what was giving him this feeling that now threatened to actually make him sick.

Almost instantly, as if a fire in the old woman had been suddenly extinguished, Madame Foster's eyes dropped down and she looked full of grief. She sighed, sounding older than ever, and finally spoke, "Wilt, sweetie...I called you here to discuss something with you. Something about Frankie."

The first notion that leapt into Wilt's mind was to ask if she was coming back. But judging by the sudden look on the old woman's face, he knew that was far from the truth. If anything, Wilt felt his own happiness, healed for several weeks now, begin to deteriorate. He began to fear that he would never see Frankie again by the expression Madame Foster wore. As the silence between them grew longer, worse and worse ideas came into Wilt's head. What if something had happened to her? Could she be hurt? Could Frankie even be...

Wilt stopped his thoughts there. He would go no further with that idea because he knew it wasn't true. It couldn't be true, or no amount of time would ever make it okay for him or the rest of the house. He blocked his mind to any further speculations and decided he would just let Madame Foster talk.

"What about her?" he asked quietly, not wanting to seem too worried nor too apathetic.

"I figured you deserved to know the reason why she left."

Wilt was a bit confused. "I know why she left. Mr. Herriman...and her, they were fighting..." He faltered to a halt as Madame Foster shook her head no.

"Frankie has been able to put up with that rabbit for twenty years, since the first day she came by with her parents to visit me." Madame Foster giggled, letting herself be lost in the memory for a moment. "You should have seen Frankie when she was two years old, Wilt, she was the cutest thing. She and Mr. Herriman have always had their differences, but she would never do something so rash as leave because of him. ...Wilt, the entire thing was basically a cover."

"A cover?" he blurted out. "A cover for what?" Now the unsettling feeling had evolved into impatience, desperation, some sort of absolute need to know what was going on.

Madame Foster sighed again, looking even more tired and ancient than ever before. "Frankie called me a while ago and said she wanted to tell you herself. She wanted you to know the truth. It's hard for me to talk about and I don't think I could have been the one to tell you, even if I wanted it that way."

She was beginning to ramble on a bit; Wilt wasn't sure he understood what she was saying.

There was silence in the room for a while. Madame Foster's eyes were intent, thinking. Wilt simply sat there, motionless, confused. The silence grew longer and the ticking of Madame Foster's clocks grew louder. Wilt wasn't sure how many minutes passed before Madame Foster finally reached for the phone and began to dial a number.

Wilt watched her, and saw her every move, yet there seemed a sort of glazed, glassy effect to it all. He didn't hear any words she spoke into the receiver, could feel no sense of the passage of time or the reality of what he was about to discover. But time moved on just the same, and through the screen that his vision had become, he saw Madame Foster hold out the phone to him. Registering no thoughts at all, he reached out and took the receiver from her. He couldn't even feel it; everything around him and about him had grown numb, and he could have sworn that even his vision was becoming blurry.

As he held the phone up to his ear, Wilt slowly began to hear again. He said something, he wasn't sure what, and soon he heard the one sound he'd never thought to hear again, the one voice he'd never expected to speak to again, the thing he was so afraid of losing from the very beginning.

Frankie's voice. And it was really her voice. Not the rage-infected one from months before, not the one that screamed and resounded throughout the house...it was the one he'd always known, the one he'd come to appreciate and miss so much. It was almost like if this was all he'd come here to hear, it would have made everything infinitely better.

"Wilt?" came her voice again. "It's Frankie."

"...I have really missed you." What else could he say but the simplest things?

"I've missed you too, Wilt. I've missed the entire house. ...I'm sorry I haven't been able to come back for a while."

Silence. Silence on her end, and he responded with the same. Who knew how long it went on? Did it really matter that much? For the first few minutes Wilt felt no sense of the passage of time, like before, yet at one moment something inside him just broke. No more waiting...no more silence, and no more games. He wanted to know the truth. This minute.

"Frankie," he finally said, "Madame Foster said there was something you wanted to say to me...something you wanted to tell me?"

"...Oh. Yeah, there wasis..." She sighed heavily. "I've been working on a way to tell you for the past two months and still I don't know what to say."

"The past two months?"

"...Yeah." She sighed again. "...This is really hard. But I'm telling you this because you're one of my best friends, Wilt, and after all this time I just think you deserve to know."

"...Go ahead."

"...About two months ago...my mother was out. She was, uh...I think she was just going out to...to the store or something, I don't know."

"...Yeah...?"

"It was raining that day. ...The roads were wet."

"...Mm-hmm."

"People don't know how to drive in the rain. They get confused."

"...Okay."

"...Somebody hydroplaned. ...And they hit her."

Her voice was growing softer, but her tone seemed hardened, like she'd told this so many times already she just didn't feel it anymore. ...Or perhaps she was fighting so hard just to keep her voice straight...

A beat of silence. She spoke again: "...She was killed."

Wilt was completely silent. The shock was too bad. Everything he'd worried over for days, lost sleep over for nights, been afraid would tear him apart from the inside out...this was so much worse than that.

"I didn't leave because of Mr. Herriman. I left for the funeral...and to stay with my father for a bit."

After all this, after all that had happened in the past month and a half, after the fights and the screaming and the rage and the confusion and the hurt and pain and tears and shock and everything, everything, everything else...Wilt simply had nothing left to say.

* * *

**DemiHuman123:** Wilt and Eduardo are the best! I'm glad you're enjoying the story :) 

**Digi Garden:** Aww, don't cry. Things will get better...or will they?

**nukerjsr:** I'm glad you like the story so much :) And you got your wish with this chapter...Madame Foster was actually in this one lol

**MysticSistaKitsune:** Wilt: (gives MSK a little peck on the cheek) ...Was that okay?

**Sherlock-fan19:** Wilt is always happy to hug :)

**Shannon Foster:** Glad to hear you're enjoying it :)

**Qk:** lol Those were some of the most enthusiastic reviews I've ever gotten. Well, I don't think I've ever made someone cry before with a story, so I'll see if I can't break you with some hardcore angst. Fun fun! ;)

I'll try my best not to slip into my old habit of slow updating. But hey, you can never really know. Until next time, thanks for all your lovely feedback, and I'm still so glad you all are enjoying this story as much as you are ;)


	7. The World Still Turns

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this story, but I do own the story. If it resembles anyone else's in any way it is unintentional.

Author's Note: Haha, here we go! Last chapter:D Prepare for angst and fluffyness and all the good stuff you've come to expect from Looking For the Smile. On with the story :)

**Looking For the Smile**  
Chapter 7: The World Still Turns 

Days passed. Or maybe it was just a couple minutes. It didn't matter, the passage of time meant nothing to Wilt now. He felt like he'd just awoken from a bad dream, only to find out that it hadn't been a dream at all. What more could he do now? Nothing. He handed the phone to Madame Foster and wordlessly got up and left the room.

He walked down the hallways, eyes not seeing, mind not thinking, legs walking but it wasn't him controlling them. He floated along, feeling not a part of this world where he had no idea what was true or not anymore. Frankie had lied to him. She'd lied to everybody. And that wasn't even the worst part of it. She'd been silent about it. She hadn't said a word this whole time. Did she think no one else would care? That no one else would understand? Who was she kidding with that train of thought? She was in a house surrounded by those who knew exactly what it was like to lose someone.

Why had she made herself suffer alone for so long? Why didn't she ever say anything to anybody? Wilt couldn't help feeling just a little bit betrayed, but it was a miniscule feeling. Why had she done this to herself?

He found himself in his own bedroom. Ed, Coco, Mac, and Bloo were already there, talking about something. Wilt had forgotten what it was they'd come upstairs to do in the first place. Upon his arrival, their eyes turned to him. "Hey Wilt," Mac greeted. "What did Madame Foster want?" Apparently Eduardo had explained Wilt's previous absence.

He mumbled something. He couldn't hear what it was. By the look in their eyes, it looked as though they might have heard him, but must have heard him wrong, for they asked him to repeat it, slight disbelief in their faces. He murmured again. It came out a sullen whisper, something small, weak, fragile, but cut through the room and split it apart, as if this house could take any more shock. It may as well have fallen to the ground by now.

"...Frankie's...mom...died..."

"What?" came Bloo's voice, sounding as though he wanted to believe it was a joke. Mac repeated the word, though his tone was one of complete incredulity. Wilt could somewhat understand Mac's greater distress at the news: his mom was all he had left. What would Mac do if _his_ mother died?

Eduardo's already large eyes widened, and he practically shouted, "Que!" Wilt felt his head slowly nodding. "Su mama? La madre de Frankie? Ella esta muerta? Muerta? Como? Como!"

Wilt didn't understand, or if he did, he didn't really want to. Luckily, Mac asked the same question: "How? How did she die, Wilt? What happened?"

Another fragile whisper to sever the room in two. "Car accident."

All was silent. Even Bloo had nothing to say. Mac, Bloo, Ed, and Coco sat there in the middle of the room, looking and feeling lost, old wounds reopened, a fresh hope of maybe seeing Frankie soon suddenly murdered in them, replaced by the all-too-familiar shock they'd felt what seemed so long ago. Wilt stood in the doorway, never seeming frail before, but his small frame seemed smaller than ever now, as if he were a twig that would just break from too much weight, too much pressure. Thoughts were passing through their heads too quickly to be thought through.

* * *

"They wouldn't want me back." 

"What are you talking about? Of course they would."

"How could they? I left so rudely and I kept so many secrets from them."

"They will understand how it was hard for you."

"I lied to them. I lied to them all. I said goodbye to a very good friend of mine and I lied directly to his face."

"That was a long time ago, Frankie. They'll probably be so happy to see you again none of that will matter to them."

"...I just don't know. What if Grandma---"

"She misses you too. I talked with her on the phone just the other day. She'd be happy to let you back, Frankie. She said you know there's always a place for you there. The imaginary friends apparently couldn't imagine a Home without you."

"So far I haven't heard of the house going out of business. They're doing just fine without me."

"How do you know that?"

"...It doesn't matter."

"Frankie, sweetheart, why don't you want to go back there? I can tell you miss them."

"...I lied to Wilt, Dad. What if he doesn't forgive me for that?"

"Isn't Wilt the one who always says sorry, even when he doesn't need to?"

She smiled, momentarily somewhere else. "Yeah, that's him."

"From what you've told me, it sounds like he wouldn't even bring that up if he saw you again. Come on, sweetie, you can't just stay here for the rest of your life."

"I've done enough for them. They can get on without me."

"I know you don't want to just leave the house, just like that. That's not my girl."

"...Dad...I'm just a little afraid to go back there, okay? ...They're probably even afraid of _me_ now."

"Afraid of you? What for?"

"You didn't see it, you weren't there. The last fight I had with Mr. Herriman...I-I can't even think about it now without feeling extremely guilty."

"...Well, Frankie, if you think staying here with me is the right thing to do, far be it from me to try to change your mind now. You're a big girl; you can make your own decisions."

Her father left the living room. Frankie was left standing by the window, watching the beginnings of a storm brew on the horizon.

A lot of what her father had said made sense. She really didn't want to leave the house, but she'd done a lot to hurt them so far, what with leaving so suddenly, and so loudly, and worrying everybody, and then lying to Wilt. He hadn't even said anything to her after she finally told him the truth. What did he think of her now? What would he do when or even if she went back? Would he hug her and tell her everything was okay, that he was happy to see her? Would he stare at her blankly, like a stranger, and speak empty words of welcome and become like a different person towards her? She didn't know. She really just absolutely didn't know.

What would Madame Foster do? ...Was it right for Frankie to abandon her grandmother as well? Surely she needed some comforting as well, surely she must miss Frankie too...and Mr. Herriman...what would he say? Did he even know why she'd left? Would it change anything?

Frankie sighed, coincidentally coinciding with the first light rumble of thunder. The rain was starting outside.

* * *

The window was streaked with raindrops. They were falling harder with each passing second, pattering like footsteps down the glass. Wilt stood by the window, leaning on the sill, watching the raindrops slither down their respective paths. 

_**Be still  
****Though chaos reigns around you now **_  
_**Only so much rain can fall at once**_

He was trying to think of something, anything, besides Frankie. He was tired of feeling sad. He just wanted to be anything _but_ upset for the moment. He just had to put himself in the state of mind that she was not coming back, that it was better if she stayed at home to grieve, and being here would only overwork her and she would never, ever feel any better. It was better for Frankie to be away. He tried to think of that instead.

_**Breathe in  
And let the air envelop you**__**  
And slow but sure serenity will come**_

He was in the foyer, looking out at the front yard of the house. Normally Bloo and Mac would take their chances and play out in the mud again, but today Mac had gone home early and Bloo was reduced to merely trudging around the house, not at all himself. It was strange to see Bloo so subdued. But then again, what hadn't been strange about the last several weeks?

Through the blurry glass he could see some distant form come up the street to the house. Probably a family coming to adopt. Or to abandon. He thought momentarily of notifying Mr. Herriman to give him the heads-up. But he really didn't feel like it. He slowly closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. He felt himself slipping away. He couldn't let himself suffer anymore because of this. The best thing for him right now was to just get back into a routine, something to get his mind on a regular cycle and not flying every which as it had been prone to doing lately. He stood straight. Whoever was in the car was getting out now. He may as well just answer the door himself.

_**Close your eyes  
Try to breathe**__**  
Feel the ground beneath your feet  
**__**It's still there  
**__**The world still turns  
**__**Around**_

The rain was falling harder and harder. A rumble of thunder shook the house. Wilt hoped the person wouldn't get too wet out there. He made a point to move more hastily to the door so their visitor wouldn't have to wait so long. The doorbell rang just as Wilt reached the door. He grasped the handle and pulled the door open. There was Frankie, holding nothing but a small soaked umbrella beside her.

..._Am I dreaming?_

Strange how the mind doesn't fully register the improbable at first. A minute of silence must have passed between them. Then, finally, it hit. She was there. She was back. She was home, she was there with him.

"Frankie?"

She smiled. It was a smile of relief. Wilt found he couldn't tell if the wetness on her face was rain or tears. But at this moment it didn't matter. She was relieved over something, and she was happy. Seeing that, and knowing that, was the best Wilt could have possibly asked for ever since that day on the stairs.

She laughed, and pressed herself suddenly into a crushing hug. Wilt had to bend down to embrace her fully, but it wasn't a problem: it felt more familiar, after all. Hardly five seconds had passed before Wilt could no longer contain himself. He pulled her inside and swept her up into a full hug, lifting her almost seven feet off the ground. She laughed, grateful, and it was the best sound Wilt's ears had heard in days and days and days. He set her down, and Frankie didn't let go. She buried herself in him, suddenly saying, "I'm sorry, Wilt, I'm so sorry..."

_**Stand up  
Though circumstance has knocked you down  
**__**There is nothing gained by staying within its reach  
**__**Take strength  
**__**In every failure you endure  
**__**Our mistakes have many lessons they can teach**_

"I'm sorry, Wilt, I didn't mean to lie to you, I really didn't..." Frankie blurted out, the words spilling from her mouth as if she'd been dying to say them for years. "I just saw how upset you were, I knew the truth would hurt you even more...I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry..."

Wilt didn't speak, just allowed her to let it out. He didn't let her go for a second.

_**Destroy  
These walls you've built around yourself  
**__**You can't take another step until they're gone  
**__**Move out  
**__**No use in dwelling in the past  
**__**Bid farewell to all your fears and carry on**_

"I'm sorry I left that night yelling the way I did, it wasn't cool, it wasn't cool at all..."

"Frankie...Frankie, it's okay. It's okay."

"Still, I'm really sorry, Wilt..."

"Frankie," Wilt said, a little amused. "Stop it. You're starting to sound like me."

She stopped apologizing after that, and though Wilt couldn't see her face, he knew she was smiling.

* * *

_I think of you_

_Like I often do_

_When I hear the rain on_

_My windowpane_

_Gently tapping at the glass_

_Like your gently touching fingers_

_Just looking for the smile_

_I give to you_

_You can feel what no one feels_

_You can hear what no one hears_

_Just looking for the smile_

_I give to you_

_And your darkness speaks and has eyes to see_

_You know me by my voice_

_But you know so much more then_

_"Don't fight the walls, they're here for all,"_

_Was what you said to me once_

_I looked into your eyes_

_And I knew you were right_

_You can feel what no one feels_

_You can hear what no one hears_

_Just looking for the smile_

_I give to you_

_And your darkness speaks and has eyes to see_

_I knew that you can win_

_This lifelong game we're in_

_"Hey! Darkness is a state of mind;_

_I can go where you would stumble,"_

_Was what you said to me_

_And I knew you were right_

**Wolfsheim, "Blind"**

**

* * *

**

Yay! And that's the end :D Sorry I was such a lazy slug in updating this thing, but I hope the end was satisfactory enough. I did leave it rather open-ended on purpose, though. Please tell me what you thought of this little story of mine, I would love to hear your final verdicts :) Looking back at the rough first drafts I wrote a while ago, there's a lot of things that were changed and left out and other things added in. For instance, the first draft had a lot more Wilt and Eduardo comfort scenes, and even a flashback or two. I also wrote out at least four other fight scenes between Frankie and Mr. Herriman, none of which were ever used, and a few of which were actually a little violent. In the early brainstorms I had for reasons why Frankie would leave, I came up with the idea that both her parents died, and in a really early draft, I even gave Frankie a baby brother which she would have had to take care of. Unfortunately, that would have brought the story to a whole different level and focus that I really didn't want it to go. But despite all that, I think it turned out fairly well :) Personally, I think if I packed this story with any more angst it would burst. Anyway...lol thank you all for reading and reviewing :D

**nukerjsr:** The first to use Frankie's mom, _and_ the first to kill her! lol No, I just kid :) Anyway, glad you liked it, and though I left a lot of the end of this story to the reader's imagination, we can assume that yes, Mr. Herriman did become a bit more sympathetic after hearing the news ;)

**Qk:** Hey, it's totally okay to feel bad for a fictional cartoon character. Goodness knows I've spent enough nights in front of the TV practically screaming over the horrible fates our little animated friends suffer, lol. Nothing wrong with it at all ;) And I shall give both Frankie and Wilt a hug for you :D

**MysticSistaKitsune:** Hehe...yes, Wilt says that is okay. (Though he really is blushing extremely red...you just can't tell ;)

**Person who got kicked off:** Wilt's arm? Hmm...have to think about that one. Though some other people here have come up with some pretty good theories.

**GreenDayBillieJoeLover:** Glad you like the story :)

**Little Japan Girl:** Woof.

**Semine Midnight:** Aw, thank you :) I'm glad you enjoy the story and hope the end didn't disappoint!

(the song used in this story was "Ground" by Assemblage 23)


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